tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47520180908147556622017-08-03T19:42:49.195-07:00AWAPOINTEThis. That. SoulOlajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.comBlogger184125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-84974224435824375102017-07-05T07:55:00.001-07:002017-07-05T07:55:41.192-07:00Molara Wood in Conversation with Okey Ndibe and JJ Bola<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eSmw-UlgbhA/WVz7qxj1qsI/AAAAAAAAEtQ/M4huLbF82TQ4oMNIjBtlGSelErKQyJKhwCLcBGAs/s1600/Okey%2BNdibe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1199" data-original-width="848" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eSmw-UlgbhA/WVz7qxj1qsI/AAAAAAAAEtQ/M4huLbF82TQ4oMNIjBtlGSelErKQyJKhwCLcBGAs/s320/Okey%2BNdibe.jpg" width="226" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Credit: Goethe Institut, Lagos</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;">Goethe Institut is organizing the 6th edition of Literary Crossroads, Nigeria. This edition presents Okey Ndibe and JJ Bola; crossing literary borders of Nigeria and the Democratic Republic of Congo, &nbsp;moderated by Molara Wood.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">"Described as an astute and gripping novelist by <i>The New Yorker Times</i>, the U.S based Nigerian writer, Okey Ndibe will be on a moderated panel discussing and reading from his critically acclaimed oeuvre of two novels and a memoir: (<i>Arrows of Rain,</i> <i>Foreign Gods</i>, <i>Inc</i>. and <i>Never Look an American in the Eye</i>) alongside JJ Bola, a poet based in the United Kingdom and whose debut novel <i>No Place Call Home</i> published by Own It is still hot off the press."</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The Literary Crossroads series is organised by the Goethe Institut, and it brings together African writers on the continent and from the Diaspora to discuss contemporary trends and themes in Literature.</div></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-73509956958423353052017-06-28T05:57:00.002-07:002017-07-05T07:44:29.289-07:00Rótìmí: A Review of Ayọ̀bámi Adébáyọ̀'s Stay with Me <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://wawabookreview.com/2017/06/27/rotimi/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Image result for stay with me Ouida Books" height="268" src="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DCR_0oiVoAAWRQw.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Photo Credit:&nbsp;<complete id="goog_40734556">@Ouida Books</complete></td></tr></tbody></table>For many newly-weds, aside from the many domestic variables, a vital hope for the marriage is that the bride will get pregnant at the expected time, as the expectation is that children will come. Well, until they do not come. This then becomes the problem that weaves the family in an emotional tangle. The couple, their relatives and even their friends cannot escape the discomfiture of proffering and/or listening to solutions that range from the absolutely ridiculous to the medically untenable. This unspeakable sorrow of childless couples who desire children is the pivot of Ayọ̀bámi Adébáyọ̀’s debut novel, Stay with Me. In it, she tells a gripping story, exploring the anxieties of childlessness, weaving that around the themes of sickle-cell disease, love and superstition, all with an effusive display of Yoruba culture.<br /><div><a href="http://wawabookreview.com/2017/06/27/rotimi/"><br /></a></div><a href="http://wawabookreview.com/2017/06/27/rotimi/">Read More&nbsp;on Wawa Review</a></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-79548435649350104302017-06-21T00:24:00.002-07:002017-06-21T00:24:41.787-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><b>The Toyin Falola Centre hereby announces the:</b><br /><br />Toyin Falola and Joseph Friesen Scholarship<br />(TFJF Scholarship)<br /><br /><b>Objective of the Scholarship</b><br /><br />Dr. Toyin Falola (Jr) and Joseph Friesen hereby institute a scholarship scheme to benefit indigent young people wishing to pursue university education in the fields of History and Biology at Nigeria universities. For the 2017-2018 competition, only students in Biology from Tai Solarin University, and from History, the University of Ibadan, will be considered.<br /><br />Recognizing that many brilliant, hardworking, and deserving Nigerian young people are unable to enter or remain in university specifically due to the lack of funds to complete their studies, this scholarship award aims to help two young Nigerians over a three year period to achieve their dreams in order to make contributions to the development and progress of the Nigerian nation.<br /><br /><b>Award Amount</b><br />The award will be for a US$5,000 per candidate, divided up into annual instalments over three years total. There will be two scholarship winners per year. The goal will be to cover tuition, books, and other school-related expenses.<br /><br /><b>Administration of the Award</b><br />The process of advertisement, evaluation of applications, selection of candidates, verification of claims and documents, monitoring of progress, disbursement of award, and sundry other related tasks shall be undertaken by the Toyin Falola Centre on behalf of Dr. Toyin Falola and Joseph Friesen, the grantors.<br /><br /><b>Criteria for selection</b><br />The scholarship will be awarded to students who demonstrate excellence in academic achievement, promising leadership qualities, and outstanding character. Academic achievement is recognized as outstanding achievement in all of WAEC/SSCE, UTME and first year examinations already undertaken by the candidate. Consistent high achievement is important for selection and retention on the scholarship. Other abilities must be evidenced by candidate’s prior record and attested to by relevant individuals in her/his community. The candidate must also clearly show evidence of indigence and inability to pay fees without the aid of the scholarship.<br />Note that:<br /><br />· Candidates must have completed the first year of studies and fulfil all criteria as set by the Toyin Falola Centre.<br /><br />· A candidate whose application is successful will have the distinction of being named a Toyin Falola and Joseph Friesen (TFJF) Scholar for the duration of the award.<br /><br /><b>Requirements/Conditions of the scholarship</b><br />&nbsp;If any of the following conditions are not met, subsequent installments of the scholarship will not be granted to the student:<br /><br />The TFJF Scholar must maintain the academic distinction at the minimum grade level of Second Class Upper Division, and character qualities (clean university citizenship record) identified upon the award throughout her/his studentship;<br /><br />A TFJF Scholar must remain at the institution/university approved for the scholarship; and,<br /><br />A TFJF Scholar must complete annual reports to be sent to the Toyin Falola Centre about her/his progress, [and co-signed by the head of department for the course of study]<br /><br />Candidates must ensure that their application documents are authentic and are a true reflection of the criteria of the award. Any fraud discovered in the Scholar’s application documents or in her/his claims will lead to an immediate forfeiture of the scholarship (if already awarded), formal report to the university, a public disclaimer, and the re-payment of any part of the award already disbursed to the individual as at the time of the discovery.<br /><br /><b>Application dates</b><br />Applications may be submitted every year between May 1 and July 15. The selected candidate for each year will be announced by August 15 of that year.<br /><br /><b>Required application documents:</b><br />o A completed application form<br />o A letter of application (5300 character maximum), convincingly setting forth the need for the scholarship and demonstrating the candidate’s goals in pursuing a university education<br />o Certified true copy of WAEC/NECO result, at one sitting only<br />o Certified true copy of Jamb result<br />o Certified true copy of university admission letter<br />o First year transcripts/results, sent directly from the University to the Centre<br />o Two recommendation letters attesting to the candidate’s academic achievement and promise, leadership potentials and character<br />o Completed attestation form from the Dean of Faculty/School or DVC Academics<br />o Other (variable) evidence of leadership abilities and of character<br />Shortlisted candidates may be required to submit additional documents or verification.<br /><br /><b>Submission of documents</b><br />Candidates must ensure that all documents reach the Toyin Falola Centre in a single email as one attachment, or in a single packet by post, within the dates set forth above. Documents arriving late for any reason at all will not be considered.<br /><br /><b>Documents may be scanned and emailed to:</b><br />tfjfscholarship@gmail.com<br /><br /><b><i>Or mailed to the following address:</i></b><br /><br />Toyin Falola Centre<br />8650 Spicewood Springs #145<br />Box 618<br />Austin, Tx 78759<br /><br /><br /></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-36396486108906317132017-06-19T04:02:00.001-07:002017-06-21T00:19:42.556-07:00Poem Alert! Litro #162: Literary Highlife<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><b>The Sisterhood of Wahala</b><br /><br />&nbsp;I<br />If you want to know wahala<br />You can find it always in two places<br />A tro-tro in Accra<br />Or a danfo bus in Lagos.<br /><a href="https://www.litro.co.uk/2017/05/litro-162-literary-highlife-sisterhood-wahala/"><br /></a><a href="https://www.litro.co.uk/2017/05/litro-162-literary-highlife-sisterhood-wahala/">Read More Here</a></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-67766187070990579002017-02-24T20:32:00.003-08:002017-06-19T04:00:31.400-07:00 An Interview in In Words Without Borders with Nathalie Handal<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I was interviewed in the brilliant The City and the Writer series by Nathalie Handal, and it was a beautiful experience. <br /><br /><br />Please read my interview here: <a href="http://www.wordswithoutborders.org/dispatches/article/the-city-and-the-writer-in-lagos-with-jumoke-verissimo-nathalie-handal?utm_content=buffer476d2&amp;utm_medium=social&amp;utm_source=twitter.com&amp;utm_campaign=buffer">Lagos is a phenomenon.&nbsp;</a></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-88783507979731334062017-02-08T08:47:00.002-08:002017-06-08T04:17:51.088-07:00A Poem by my Niece<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />Last month, my eldest brother shared a poem he found in his daughter's room with me. He was concerned.<br /><br />I read the poem. Once, twice--slowly. My niece is 11 years old.<br /><br />Not being one to take the words in a poem for granted, even if it is a reflection that is based on another person's experience. I made a quick phone call.<br /><br />My first question after a few niceties&nbsp;was, 'Is there something you'd like to tell me?'<br /><br />She soon explained that the poem was a reflection of how she felt as she wrote her final examinations. As a young girl moving to grammar school, listening to her parents here-and-now reproach inspired not just fear, but the poem in question.<br /><div><br /><div>I believe her fears were valid -- 'What if I fail?' 'Would sharing my fears make me appear lazy or dull?'<br /><br />Here's the Poem, do enjoy.<br /><br />WHEN ANXIETY MAKES YOU LOW - Ninuola Verissimo</div><div><br /></div><div>The whole world is falling down on you,<br />Nobody knows what you’re going through<br />Worries control you, your thoughts, your actions, your life.<br />Questions and queries mess up your mind<br /><br />They haunt you like night nightmares both day and night.<br />What will they think? How will I do it? I’ll never do it right.<br />Can I get through this? Who am I? Why am I here?<br />These questions are in your mind, and many more creep up your spine.<br /><br />It kills you inside it murders the happiness in your soul and mind.<br />When you thought things were going on alright,<br />it comes, back-stabs you with the knife of depression and sorrow when you’re not looking.<br />People tell you you’re pessimistic and just too negative<br /><br />But they don’t understand, they don’t know what it’s like when anxiety makes you low;<br />it’s like a great big blow and many more hits of sadness to come the flow.<br />It makes you tearful and you don’t know why.<br />You shout out for help to get out of this misery but no one hears your cries.<br /><br />The future makes you fearful, all the worries that you might not breakthrough.<br />All your efforts of trying to be positive are overcome because anxiety spoils it.<br />It follows you, a big cloud of sorrow even when you try to move on with your life tomorrow.<br /><br />When you try to look for peace in your mind, but anxiety makes it pieces.<br />Control is no longer part of the picture, it’s like anxiety is now in the permanent fixture.<br />All these things anxiety makes you do, but you must carry on because positivity is calling you<br />You must stay strong and not go with anxiety’s flow<br />You must not let anxiety make you low.</div></div></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-78822788443959546602017-02-01T08:35:00.002-08:002017-02-08T08:24:30.716-08:00Interview on AfrikaJump<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-85f5ebEJdk4/WJIOD_k8bYI/AAAAAAAADaM/OiqwWvgQw-AJZeOWPjB6iFf8D6kb40EjACLcB/s1600/interview.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-85f5ebEJdk4/WJIOD_k8bYI/AAAAAAAADaM/OiqwWvgQw-AJZeOWPjB6iFf8D6kb40EjACLcB/s200/interview.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />The very talented, Okwei Odili, who is a writer, fantastic composer and singer interviewed me on her blog. You can <a href="https://afrikajump.wordpress.com/2017/02/01/still-waters-run-deep-jumoke-verissimo/">enjoy the interview on her blog</a>, and enjoy her riveting music <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FaGbBBIfg9Y&amp;list=PL411S6jB1nZW_XvJMKeOsjf_4wsGn0t-I">here</a>&nbsp;on YouTube and <a href="https://soundcloud.com/okweiodili">here</a>&nbsp;on Soundcloud. <br /><br />Gracias!</div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-24598839677271366462017-01-26T23:44:00.000-08:002017-01-27T03:46:42.625-08:00News From African Literature Association<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><br /><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a5JCvaVbSwA/WIr4qon7YvI/AAAAAAAADYI/4-h6efVh6lIIC3-nPQqHhIXeTfVvVxpxwCLcB/s1600/ALA.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a5JCvaVbSwA/WIr4qon7YvI/AAAAAAAADYI/4-h6efVh6lIIC3-nPQqHhIXeTfVvVxpxwCLcB/s320/ALA.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Here's some news from African Literature Association:<br /><br />Registration for the 2017 ALA conference at Yale University is now open. Please remember that all those who intend to participate in the conference must first pay ALA membership dues before proceeding to pay 2017 conference registration fees. Early bird payments and lower registration costs for the conference come to an end on March 15 2017. Participants in the 2017 conference will be able to use bank wire transfer and credit cards to pay for their conference registration.<br /><br />In order to pay ALA membership dues, please go to the <a href="https://www.blogger.com/">following ALA website.</a><br /><br />The code you will need in order to receive the members rate for conference registration will be found in the "Members Area" of the ALA website. You must be logged in and your dues must be current to access your personalized code.In order to pay conference registration fees, <a href="http://ala2017.macmillan.yale.edu/">please visit:</a> <a href="http://ala2017.macmillan.yale.edu/">ALA Website</a><br /><br /><br /><b>Call for 2017 Travel Grant Applications</b><br />Yale University, New Haven, USA<br />14–17 June 2017<br /><br />The African Literature Association invites applications for three ALA Travel Grant Awards worth $1,000 each, for members traveling to the association’s conference from Africa. Priority is given to early career applicants.<br /><br />Eligible applicants must be based in Africa, and should demonstrate 1) scholarship; 2) financial need; and 3) ability to supplement grant award.<br /><br />Travel Grant Applications must include the following documents:<br />A cover letter (not longer than 2 pages) including title and abstract of conference paper to be presented at ALA conference;<br />Acceptance letter from the convener;<br />A 2 page Curriculum Vitae or résumé (including ALA travel grant awards received within the past three [3] years , teaching and/or research experience and interests, professional meetings/conferences attended, with dates, place and titles of papers presented, current university affiliation, if applicable); and<br />Two letters of recommendation. Each letter should be 2 pages or less, and should include contact and brief biographical information of recommender. (Recommender’s CV or résumé is not needed).<br />Winners of the award are expected to meet with the Chair of the committee and members of the EC when they attend the conference.<br /><br />Travel grants are awarded to successful applicants during the Awards Ceremony at the conference. Successful applicants will be required to be paid-up ALA members for the current year and to pay conference registration fees. Please be advised that the ALA Membership fee is different from the conference registration fees; and both are compulsory for all conference participants.<br /><br />Please send your complete application in Word or PDF format by February 28th 2017 to both Grace A Musila (<a href="mailto:gmusila@sun.ac.za">gmusila@sun.ac.za</a>) and Joyce Ashuntantang (<a href="mailto:joyceash99@gmail.com">joyceash99@gmail.com</a> ).<br /><br />For more information about the conference, visit the <a href="http://ala2017.macmillan.yale.edu/">Yale website.</a></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-68170159110259257682017-01-26T03:45:00.003-08:002017-01-26T23:33:34.926-08:00Poetry Anthology on the Capital Cities of the World<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0aokMFZbxLE/WIng-CLW9BI/AAAAAAAADXw/5-gsIsg_7fgGaZFcqs6NMeOvMFd6BmrNgCLcB/s1600/Capital.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0aokMFZbxLE/WIng-CLW9BI/AAAAAAAADXw/5-gsIsg_7fgGaZFcqs6NMeOvMFd6BmrNgCLcB/s320/Capital.jpg" width="215" /></a></div><br />Last year, I was featured along with some of the world's finest poets in the anthology: Capitals (published by Bloomsbury) and edited by the poet and diplomat, Abhay K. <br /><div><br /></div><div>The book focuses on capital cities through the eyes of some of the world’s finest poets. The idea which is in itself profound, is a ‘poetic-scape’ of the world in a book. Featuring poets like Derek Walcott, Kwame Dawes, Beverley Nambozo Nsengiyunva, Ruth Padel, Jekwu Ozoemene, George Szirtes, Mimi Khalvati, Luis Chavez, G Mend-Ooyo, Sudeep Sen, Claire Askew and several others.<br /><br />Here's an excerpt from an article written by the Abhay K on what inspired the book:<br /><br />"After joining the Indian Foreign Service, I worked in New Delhi, Moscow, St Petersburg and Kathmandu before moving to Brasilia. As part of my work, I often visit the capitals of different countries at very short notice. I look for poems on places I visit before setting out as I believe poems have the ability to render a deep and intimate experience of a place. Thus I set out on an impossible journey of finding a poem on each capital city of the world." <a href="http://www.dailyo.in/arts/capital-cities-of-the-world-and-india-abhay-k-seduction-of-delhi-poetry/story/1/15314.html">READ MORE</a><br /><br />CAPITALS would be launched in NY at Poets House on 5th Jan 2017, at Jaipur Literature Festival on 21st Jan 2017, at India International Centre on 27th Jan 2017 and <a href="https://www.soas.ac.uk/cclps/research/multilingual-locals-and-significant-geographies/events/01feb2017-book-launch-capitals-a-poetry-anthology.html">SOAS</a>, University of London on 1st Feb 2017. <br /><br /></div></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-28951319828515641512017-01-19T06:13:00.001-08:002017-01-26T03:31:23.617-08:00Call for Submissions: Megacity Fictions <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-o7vW7lrs1r0/WIDJislz3pI/AAAAAAAADRQ/9bgqedPvTsw0SG0w2YVEEWgQyB9NZzWqgCLcB/s1600/tin_can_lagos-1050x703.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-o7vW7lrs1r0/WIDJislz3pI/AAAAAAAADRQ/9bgqedPvTsw0SG0w2YVEEWgQyB9NZzWqgCLcB/s320/tin_can_lagos-1050x703.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo From:http://www.signalng.com/</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Here's a call for submission on Megacities, those cities with borders brimming with people, yet never spilling into neighbouring towns or cities. Cities like Lagos, Nigeria.<br /><br />Interested?<br /><div><i><b><br />Here's the call for submissions:</b></i><br />Megacity Fictions invites submissions that explore particular megacities, or the concept of the megacity in general. Creative writing, creative non-fiction, criticism and images are all welcome. Please email your submissions to megacityfictions@gmail.com or use the form below. <br /><br />Work will be published on the website Megacity Fictions. A selection of the best pieces will be published in an anthology of Megacity Fiction, due to be published by UEA’s Boiler House Press in early 2018. <br /><br />For stories in French, Spanish or Mandarin please title your email SPANISH, FRENCH or MANDARIN. We are currently looking for translators and readers in other languages.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.megacityfictions.com/about/"><span style="font-size: large;">More on the anthology here</span></a></div></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-87084077161132920052017-01-18T00:08:00.000-08:002017-01-23T03:59:25.500-08:00Remembering Patrice Lumumba<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WzeCw2-CNck/WH8fH2C8RyI/AAAAAAAADQw/C6w1zA5EV30NvnA40Eksg40azHIARgx5QCLcB/s1600/pl-1024x670.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WzeCw2-CNck/WH8fH2C8RyI/AAAAAAAADQw/C6w1zA5EV30NvnA40Eksg40azHIARgx5QCLcB/s320/pl-1024x670.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Patrice Lumumba (center)in 1960, Image via Wikipedia Commons</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>The name Lumumba didn't come to me in a book. It came to me in the voice of the famous Nigerian Juju musician, IK Dairo, who was one of the regulars who crooned from my parents' Phillips stereo player. I used to enjoy singing 'Iku Lumumba' without understanding the significance of the event or the political personality involved. It was many years later, I would learn about the man Lumumba, his fight and his vision.<br /><div><div><br /></div><div>Here's a brilliant feature, in memory of the man, <a href="http://africasacountry.com/2017/01/patrice-lumumba-1925-1961/">Patrice Lumumba (1925 - 1961) in Africasacountry.com. </a><br /><br />Let us remember.</div></div></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-36840668090018385412017-01-11T09:07:00.000-08:002017-01-12T03:16:38.483-08:002016: the year of the poetry, 'simply beyond words.'<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><div style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><img alt="Image result" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTcwe03KcPgQZurnqv1eXKGca8rZi5WRleQqh4yzjiD8Snt41od" /></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">As 2016 winded down, one of the many questions on the lips of many literati was if Bob Dylan was deserving of the Nobel Prize? In the article, “Bob Dylan wins Nobel Prize, Redefining Boundaries of Literature” published in the <a href="http://mobile.nytimes.com/2016/10/14/arts/music/bob-dylan-nobel-prize-literature.html?smid=tw-nytimesarts&amp;smtyp=cur&amp;referer=https%3A%2F%2Ft.co%2FXV0i3KXLBg">New York Times,</a> expressed many perspectives, one of which was how the debate over Bob Dylan’s lyrics as poetry is not new. It also explained how for many years, scholars have devoted time to analysing his music, especially as the musician has often “sprinkled literary allusions into his music and cited the influence of poetry on his lyrics.”&nbsp;</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">Now, despite Dylan’s unacceptance as a poet in some quarters, and with the many contentions on the literariness of his works, there’s been a group arguing for Bob Dylan as a brave poet reaching the soul of poetry in his songs. In the aforementioned article, it was mentioned that “The Oxford Book of American Poetry included his song “Desolation Row,” in its 2006 edition, and Cambridge University Press released “The Cambridge Companion to Bob Dylan” in 2009, further cementing his reputation as a brilliant literary stylist.” The article also stated that Billy Collins, the former Unites States poet laureate is quoted to have said that Mr Dylan deserves recognition not just as a songwriter, but as a poet. “Most song lyrics don’t really hold up without the music, and they aren’t supposed to,” Mr Collins said in an interview. “Bob Dylan is in the 2 percent club of songwriters whose lyrics are interesting on the page even without the harmonica and the guitar and his very distinctive voice. I think he does qualify as poetry.”</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">Now, flashback to an Op-Ed written by Bill Wyman in 2013, titled, “<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2013/09/29/opinion/sunday/knock-knock-knockin-on-nobels-door.html">Knock, Knock, Knockin’ on Nobel’s Door”</a>, where Wyman argued that Bob Dylan should get a Nobel Prize. He wrote; “If the academy doesn’t recognise Bob Dylan — a bard who embodied the most significant cultural upheaval of the second half of the last century — it will squander its best chance to honour a pop poet.” The Nobel seemed to agree with his point of view, but it would remain one of the most controversial picks for the academy in recent times.</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">Then it happened, in 2016, Bob Dylan is announced as a Nobel Laureate, and the world of literature fell apart; the Dylan-deserves-the-award and Dylan-is-not-deserving-of-the-award. A war happened on the internet, with mixed reactions resulting in a cacophony of tweets, facebook posts and several spurious essays, long, short and medium, on how low the mighty Nobel Prize has fallen. Yet, those who believed the prize went to a deserving ‘writer’, included Joyce Carol Oates, who is herself a perennial Nobel choice, who was even rumoured as a likely choice for the 2016 award based on numerous betting sites went on to describe Dylan’s win as “an inspired choice.”&nbsp;</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">Ultimately, the announcement, for many in the literati, was a departure from the accepted – you know literature should be judged as books. There were also echoes of ‘imperialism’, mostly by a lot of African intelligentsia who believed the award should undeservedly have gone to the continent-wide renowned writer, Ngugi wa Thiongo. There were also writers like <a href="http://www.citylab.com/design/2016/10/dylans-nobel-prize-might-be-the-most-swedish-thing-ever/504017/">Feargus O’Sullivan who believed it was the Scandinavians displaying an age-long romance</a> for America’s counterculture and in effect, they needed to award the ‘hero’ of their youth. He writes, “Recognizing Dylan as literary luminary validates a generation’s enthusiasms—and shows the world exactly what Sweden’s cultural elite really warm to.”</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">As for Otosirieze-Obi, in “<a href="http://brittlepaper.com/2016/10/imperialisminartistry-bob-dylans-nobel-win-proof-chimamanda-beyonce-otosirieze-obiyoung/">Imperialism-in-Artistry: Bob-Dylan’s Nobel win is proof Adichie is right about Beyonce</a>,” – he believes the award is another mental-dominance of the West via art. While one wonders how much of an unconvincing argument this is, considering that the Africa he refers to—the Africa of his generation, is fast becoming a continent where a large percentage of its poetry, desperately aligns to suit MFA programmes, American magazines, and contemporary American poetry, fighting desperately to fit in and find acceptance on social media. In any case, Obi’s argument is that awarding the prize to Dylan, confirms that “literature is of secondary relevance in a world-blessed with music…” A rather unclear statement, for what is literature to an African without music? Isn’t African literature steeped in songs, chants and a repertoire of performances? Well, then again, Otosirieze-Obi’s Africa is different it is Americanised – it is a world living under the influence of pop music from the West, finding validation from the West and earning distinction by throwing invectives without a knowledge of social history to its literary heroes, while desperately seeking to unleash itself from the shackles of apish writing. In that regards, a Nobel Prize like Bob-Dylan’s reiterates the intellectual limbo of (t)his generation.</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">Then again, it could be the fact that Bob Dylan is first-of-all a musician. In today’s world, a good ear is needed to distinguish the pop music where the lyrics are simplistic and banal. But let’s assume we all have good feelings of the soul-stirring lyrics of Dylan, would it once again stir the question of where to draw the line between poetry and music, which is a never-solved-problem. Or it could be that too many times, Dylan has expressed that he has a closer affinity to music even when he published his books, a collation of his many worlds, where he summarised himself as the performer of words. Unfortunately, you either are a poet or a musician in the context of the world—a fast changing world, hypertexting and lyricizing its own art. The question then remains, why would anyone give a literature prize to a man who insists he is a musician? Can one be a poet without calling himself one?&nbsp;</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">Should one follow the argument that poets, generally, being self-effacing, helps Dylan succeed in leading a double-life, one in which he does not have to hide himself, and one in which he can live to contend his authenticity, as a musician, Dylan knows to draw attention to his form, but as a poet, he’d rather cling to a recondite personality. As Wislawa Szymborska wrote in her Nobel Prize Lecture, “The Poet and the World,”&nbsp;</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">“Contemporary poets are sceptical and suspicious even, or perhaps especially, about themselves. They publicly confess to being poets only reluctantly, as if they were a little ashamed of it. But in our clamorous times, it's much easier to acknowledge your faults, at least if they're attractively packaged, than to recognise your own merits, since these are hidden deeper and you never quite believe in them yourself ... When filling in questionnaires or chatting with strangers, that is, when they can't avoid revealing their profession, poets prefer to use the general term "writer" or replace "poet" with the name of whatever job they do in addition to writing.”&nbsp;</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">In one of the most popular quotes of James Joyce’s Ulysses, he wrote that the "The Supreme question about a work of art is out of how deep a life it springs." In essence, Bob Dylan may not write poetry as we know it, but his lyrics have profoundly influenced American literature and crossed borders to fill emotional lacunas.&nbsp;</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">Now, I am one of those that believe in oral literature, as it is all around me. I am a Yoruba woman, the literature of my culture in its oral form is alive and representative as well. A culture that sings poetry and chants its praise, so much that even names can unravel strings of metaphors. In that sense, writing only expands folk literature, it does not define it. So who says literature should be written. Wyman in his far-sighted essay, Knock…wrote, “Mr Dylan just writes pop lyrics. Actually, Mr Dylan writes, full stop. Why discount what has been written because of where it ends up.”</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">The American-Nigerian poet, Olu Oguibe also wrote on his Facebook page, the ambition all along for many poets is the song. The basic truth is that many poets are continually aiming to create rhythm either in sound or in images, they try to write songs. This is what the Nobel Prize Committee recognised. In an interview, he expressed that this was an aspiration;</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">“Music is the only thing that’s in tune with what’s happening,” he told an interviewer that summer of ’65, as he would tell others during those months. “It’s not in book form, it’s not on the stage.” And to another the following year: “I’d never written anything like [‘Rolling Stone’] before and it suddenly came to me that that was what I should do.… After writing that, I wasn’t interested in writing a novel, or a play…I wanted to write songs.… I mean, nobody’s ever really written songs before.” (Art)</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">For me, Bob Dylan’s music is a rich source of poetry performed as folksongs, preserving a vital part of America’s culture in everyday language. As <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2016/10/14/arts/music/bob-dylan-nobel-prize.html">Jon Pareles writes</a> "As much as any literary figure to emerge in the 20th century, he has written words that resonate everywhere: quoted by revolutionaries and presidents, hurled by protesters, studied by scholars and taken to heart in countless private moments."</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">And for anyone to assume as Obi wrote, that “the writing life of loneliness and sweat and hard work that doesn’t always pay off…” is to imply that Dylan woke up with his songs ready and with a now creative process to it. This in itself is artistic bigotry, which undermines the argument that writing has lesser patronage than the other art forms like “music, acting and sports,” as he writes.</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">Of course, there are many writers who would always deserve the Nobel and many of them would not get it, just like some of the world’s greatest writers did not. Writers like Marcel Proust, Virginia Woolf, Vladimir Nabokov, Chinua Achebe and several others.&nbsp;</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">The other argument that Bob Dylan would not need the money brings further demotion to the art of our beloved writers. Some believe the award was more of a waste. Why didn’t the Nobel Committee think of Ngugi wa Thiongo? While the betting sites might play up hopes year-in-year-out, but Ngugi stands on the pulpit of a deserving recognition, not a clamour for a desperate Africans literati, singling out the Nobel as the institution to determine our honour roll call.</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">Ngugi is a worthy man. He is a cultural representation and so be it. The prize money would do a lot, but we must not turn our man of honour into a dishonour, by limiting his worth into one deserving only of pecuniary compensation. The African literati should not ‘need’ an award for a writer of Ngugi’s stature, he should deserve it. Ngugi deserves the honour, not compensation. It is important to state categorically, that a man like Ngugi is no less a god with or without a Nobel Prize. He stands as a reminder of what it means to be a living legend.&nbsp;</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">Let’s also remember that Alfred Nobel asked the prize should be given “the person who shall have produced in the field of literature the most outstanding work in an ideal direction” – interpret this as a work which has character of place and identity, a work which has ‘built’ and created and inspired and remodelled himself outside the context of the usual.&nbsp;</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">While, many may now choose to ignore it, Dylan has long ago been seen as a poet singing his lines, and academics – many who cried foul and departure to the written muse, know of colleagues, or have even taught Dylan in their class. In conversation with Professor Nduka Otiono, he expressed that Mr Dylan’s work was admirable for him, for its “poetic breath” and this led him to teach him as a poet in an undergraduate class” in his university in Canada. The internet also carried a story of <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2016/10/15/arts/music/bob-dylan-101-a-harvard-professor-has-the-coolest-class-on-campus.html?_r=0%27">Professor Richard F. Thomas, who teaches his students Dylan, putting him in the context of</a> <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2016/10/15/arts/music/bob-dylan-101-a-harvard-professor-has-the-coolest-class-on-campus.html?_r=0%27">Homer and Virgil.</a>'</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">One thing is constant, Bob Dylan was influenced by literature and he has influenced literature. He has been more of a bardic poet, offering his poetry into the depths of millions of minds. He wasn’t awarded a prize for this written books, he was awarded a prize for the poetry in his songs. "for having created new poetic expressions within the great American song tradition".</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;">Today, we read a lot of poetry that are in a battle with themselves--finding meaning, lacking soul and shifting shapes to fit into literary magazines and social media likes, I think tThe Nobel Committee this time reminded us, that indeed the aspiration, was the song.</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/2016/dylan-speech.html">READ HIS BANQUET SPEECH HERE</a></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-35647929263821856322017-01-09T09:00:00.000-08:002017-01-09T09:00:06.069-08:00Redress<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />I want to understand what cannot be changed<br />and what will not redeem but resists<br />where un-mended fate cries out<br /><br />I want to return to nights that failed<br />to flow in the lava of melted rocks<br />intransigent nights that gripped<br />hope between liver and grit<br /><br />I must find the vein of patient redress<br />in the dash and flurry of hearts<br />too famished to follow their own beats<br />yet unwilling to stay still<br /><br />I want to reach for the comely moon that insists<br />night after night on rousing the defeated<br />to raise scrapers afresh from jagged mountains<br /><br />wherever I turn, I want to give the future a future<br />through unbroken will that cries out<br />for hearts that lose their beats but will not succumb.<br /><br />by Odia Ofeimun (From his book&nbsp;<i>A Boiling Caracas</i>)<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Image result for odia ofeimun" height="256" src="https://i0.wp.com/media.premiumtimesng.com/wp-content/files/2013/10/Odia-Ofeimun.jpg?fit=576%2C461" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Odia Ofeimun</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-80480400527563676402016-05-20T20:34:00.000-07:002016-05-20T20:34:22.538-07:00Track One: Placenta Musing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><img src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KRRtvClEdgU/TR-TMUcMofI/AAAAAAAAAe0/jHDxEG7H_0I/s320/Sunset+Dreams718+NB_Injete+Chesoni+Art+Catalogue.jpg" /><br /><br /><i>The child’s foot is not yet aware it’s a foot,</i><br /><i>And would like to be a butterfly or an apple</i><br />– Pablo Neruda, ‘To the Foot from its child’<br /><br />i<br /><br />This is how I came to be: a daytime dream:<br />Life begins as a hazy harmattan forenoon<br />It is trees wearing rusty leaves and twigs<br />It is a mother’s plea for nature to falter<br />But her desiccated desires are spurted<br />Into a citrus-sized head clambering out<br />Hollering to see what could hold it longer<br />Mother father midwife the bed or just stares?<br /><br />ii<br /><br />I form fanciful prose in chiselled clouds<br />Birth gives one a worth of six feet of stories<br />And the foundation of many-storey issues<br />Built on many plots of gender narratives<br />And Feuds of p/referred myths passed down<br />As an Other narrative to own or disown<br />Or torture dreams into rainbow colours<br />Wherefore I sum time, become daybreak<br /><br />iii<br /><br />How can I who do not know life know death?<br />To say one die when born is foolishness<br />I am a stranger wearing the sound of earth<br />I am a drifter, like plankton in salt water<br />Sometimes I will hear the wind say to me:<br />Child, welcome to the drama of the binary<br />I striate into the soul of rocks to be colours<br />Of rainbows and fauna and flora and being<br /><br />iv<br /><br />Here is a child with the wisdom spoken in markets<br />Songs carried in the eyes of the places I call mother<br />This one is a child of stories that lift off sills like dust<br />I was a story inspired by solitude of dusk<br />Now I am a gallery of daylight-inferences<br />What is not to expect from the life of one like mine<br />A birth prevised by scan and then revised by schemes<br />Only now finding identity in the fluidity of pronouns<br /><div><br /></div><div>(excerpt from a current manuscript 'the sun is no fool')</div></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-5819032481842251302016-05-05T09:54:00.001-07:002016-05-05T09:54:54.499-07:00Upcoming Event<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-enZX--g-Nxs/Vyt31nqN7GI/AAAAAAAAAh4/D_pJwurDop413OLj0TZZ9r0OXwChthBqQCLcB/s1600/Lit%2BCR%2BVerissmo%2BOmotoso%2BPoster%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-enZX--g-Nxs/Vyt31nqN7GI/AAAAAAAAAh4/D_pJwurDop413OLj0TZZ9r0OXwChthBqQCLcB/s640/Lit%2BCR%2BVerissmo%2BOmotoso%2BPoster%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="451" /></a></div><br /></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-3991345897965977252016-04-22T09:52:00.003-07:002017-01-12T02:49:32.287-08:002016 Okot P’Bitek Prize for Poetry in Translation Guidelines<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><br />The Okot P’Bitek Prize for Poetry in Translation is a one-off award for emerging African poets administered by the Centre for African Cultural Excellence (CACE) to celebrate fifty years since the publication of Okot P’Bitek’s Song of Lawino.<br /><br />The prize aims to award poets who write originally in an African indigenous language and translate their own poetry to English to celebrate the process of self-translation and bi-linguality in African poetry.<br /><br />The prize seeks to highlight and celebrate the fact that Wer pa Lawino was conceived and first written in Acoli, P’Bitek’s mother-tongue and translated to English by the poet as Song of Lawino.<br /><br />READ <a href="http://linkis.com/writivism.org/2016/0/8ya7D">MORE INFORMATION ABOUT THE PRIZE HERE</a></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-30993154088856189462016-04-22T01:55:00.001-07:002017-01-12T02:51:36.158-08:00The Gerald Kraak Award and Anthology<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br />Created in honour of the late activist Gerald Kraak’s extraordinary legacy of supporting human rights, this award will advance his contribution to building a South Africa that is safe and welcoming to all. The unique and vital anthology will feature English language writing and photography from and about Africa. Exceptional works which explore, interrogate and celebrate the topics of gender, sexuality and human rights will be short-listed, and given a voice through publication.<br /><br />SUBMISSIONS ARE CURRENTLY OPEN!<br />Closing date for submissions: 31 July 2016<br />Shortlist announced: 15 December 2016<br /><br />• fiction<br />• non-fiction<br />• poetry<br />• photography / photographic essays<br />• journalism / magazine reporting<br />• scholarly articles in academic journals and book chapters / extracts<br />• social media / blog writings and contributions<br />• Materials must not exceed 15 000 words or 10 images. <br />• We are looking for work which tells a story or illustrates an idea. If one photograph achieves this, then we welcome the submission of that single image. It is however more likely to be accomplished through a collection of photographs or a photographic essay.<br />• No handwritten or hard copy entries can be considered. Submissions must be made via the online entry form: <a href="http://www.jacana.co.za/awards/the-gerald-kraak-award-and-anthology-entry-form">http://www.jacana.co.za/awards/the-gerald-kraak-award-and-anthology-entry-form</a>.<br /><br />• The entry form calls for a short biography (100 words maximum) and contact details of the entrant. These should not be included on the work being submitted, as the award is judged blind and the entrant remains anonymous until the shortlist has been selected.<br />• Submissions are considered to implicitly indicate the entrant’s permission for their work to be published in the anthology, if shortlisted, for no payment or royalty.<br />Closing date: 31 July 2016</span><br /><div><span style="font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br />Shortlist announced: December 2016<br /><br />Submit to Jacana Media by following this link: <a href="http://www.jacana.co.za/awards/the-gerald-kraak-award-and-anthology-entry-form">http://www.jacana.co.za/awards/the-gerald-kraak-award-and-anthology-entry-form</a><br /><br />RULES<br /><br />Works which fall within one of the following categories are accepted:</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br />Entries must have been created by a citizen of an African country, who primarily lives and works on the continent.<br /><br />Written submissions must be in English.<br /><br />• Up to three entries are permitted per author, across categories. Each entry must be submitted on a separate electronic entry form.<br /><br />Enquiries can be directed to awards@jacana.co.za</span></div></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-36941484410750267562016-04-19T10:54:00.001-07:002017-01-12T02:51:09.211-08:00A Short Story: Ferrying Alaba <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: &quot;times&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br />No 1. Ojo Street stood like a sentry on the narrow lane, with several unfenced multi-room buildings belonging to the 1930s. The house faced a railway track which they say was built in the 18th century, and for seventy years it had resisted the vibrations of shuttling trains.<br /><br />No. 1 was also known as Bewaji House after its former owner, Theophilus Bewaji who was also the first settler in the area. While the house did not die with its owner, it was close to the ground. It was listed to a side like a tipped cattle carriage driving into a bend, and still it found the space to tuck in two shops, one on the left and the other on the right, occupied by the wives of two tenants who sold food supplies to the neighbourhood. Between the shops was a wooden door made from three wide planks held together by a beam. It led to a stairway, which faced the room of Taiwo Bewaji and her grandmother, Mamake; the only surviving wife of Theophilus Bewaji who lived on rents collected from tenants. Mamake was formerly known as Mama Jumoke, until her granddaughter Taiwo, while learning to talk, mispronounced the name, and then it stuck.<br /><br />This short story was first published in the AKE REVIEW. You can read the <a href="http://akereview.com/ferrying-alaba-by-jumoke-verissimo/">complete story on the website</a></span></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-69954805185002168142016-04-15T01:47:00.003-07:002017-01-11T06:29:48.401-08:002016 Farafina Trust Creative Writing Workshop<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wyShS4ukJIM/VxCqinJO3UI/AAAAAAAAAhU/ZqioE9ImOncYM9ITj_oXlRNEBl9pvkE-gCLcB/s1600/farafina_trust_logo-email-size1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wyShS4ukJIM/VxCqinJO3UI/AAAAAAAAAhU/ZqioE9ImOncYM9ITj_oXlRNEBl9pvkE-gCLcB/s1600/farafina_trust_logo-email-size1.jpg" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Farafina Trust will be holding a creative writing workshop in Lagos, organized by award-winning writer and creative director of Farafina Trust, Chimamanda Adichie, from June 21 to July 1, 2016. The workshop is sponsored by Nigerian Breweries Plc. The Caine Prize-winning Kenyan writer, Binyavanga Wainaina, Aslak Sira Myhre and others will co-teach the workshop alongside Adichie.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span><a href="https://farafinabooks.wordpress.com/2016/04/08/2016-farafina-trust-creative-writing-workshop/"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Get more information on the Farafina Blog</span></a></span></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-70803672968393884942016-04-14T10:13:00.000-07:002016-04-15T00:37:15.636-07:00It all happened in April<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"></span></span><br /><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="color: black; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></div><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 6px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; word-spacing: 0px;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin: 0px;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kmt43tnA3r4/Vw_OcOkBXjI/AAAAAAAAAhI/cVzmcjbxaZEZy_VkWHVDz3rgrRREZXyCACK4B/s1600/April_Showers_Bring_Spring_Flowers72.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kmt43tnA3r4/Vw_OcOkBXjI/AAAAAAAAAhI/cVzmcjbxaZEZy_VkWHVDz3rgrRREZXyCACK4B/s320/April_Showers_Bring_Spring_Flowers72.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></span></a></div></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif; font-size: small;">Photo Credit:&nbsp;Porterfields&nbsp;Finearts&nbsp;<a href="http://bit.ly/23yAXY5">http://bit.ly/23yAXY5</a></span></div></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;</span><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">Memory and desire, stirring&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">Dull roots with spring rain.&nbsp; –&nbsp;<i>Waste Land</i>&nbsp;T.S Eliot<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">Dawn, April 14, 2004, my cousin, Gbenga Rufai died watching his dream descend into darkness-infinitum as he was denied life by several rounds of gunshots from armed robbers. I never heard the sound, but every April, I imagine the sound that lodged you in a 6-feet home. Paaaaap…Paaaaap…..Paaaap.&nbsp; It’s not a good departure tune.&nbsp; It is not.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">"I scavenge the details of an abrupt end<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">carve gutter on my brows<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">I hush pain in the noise of sorrow." –&nbsp;<i>I am memory</i><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">April 14, 2014; as dusk hurries after dawn,&nbsp;276 Nigerian girls lost their names to become Chibok girls, they descended into our national anxieties, and as we waited for a return, they became numbers, list of names <i>mementoed</i> across the media, and forever a horrific memorial of a town they once called home.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">A mother is watching the road every day<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">Her eyes live by the door for a surprise…<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">In all this, between tears, a smile to swallow the loss—my parents are making an endless narrative with their marriage, they celebrate their 48 years wedding anniversary tomorrow – 15 April 2016.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"> </span><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br /><!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></div></div></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-8097674557564807402015-12-02T08:13:00.001-08:002016-04-14T10:14:01.435-07:00This could be a blog post <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">I have not written on my blog for some time, and I do not know if this is a note on resumption.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">Yet, I have this feeling I won't sleep well in the coming weeks if I don't write any note on <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UPDSFSc3l1Y">Femi Amogunla's</a> photography project on <a href="http://ogbenifemi.tumblr.com/post/134390661265/witch-girl-that-stood-when-boys-ran-who">Tumblr</a>. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">Femi is an award-winning multimedia artiste. &nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B9_ZOIiVdWs/Vl8RLl-5XaI/AAAAAAAAAeA/mxnODlMjBRY/s1600/Fems.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B9_ZOIiVdWs/Vl8RLl-5XaI/AAAAAAAAAeA/mxnODlMjBRY/s200/Fems.jpg" width="165" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">He’s currently working around the UN 16 days of Activism against Gender-Based Violence--an annual international campaign that runs from 25 November (International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women)&nbsp;to 10 December (Human Rights Day).&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">I’m fascinated by the photographs because of Femi's turn of street humdrum&nbsp;into subliminal narratives that seek to engage conversations.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">His lateral perspectives bring&nbsp;remote words to the meaning we attach to femininity as a residue nurturer of resilience.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">Femi also accompanies these photos with background stories that are related in conversational tones, almost like public bus commentaries between passengers. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">Femi would culminate this project with his first short film he would be screening at the American Corner, Jericho, Ibadan, on December 4, 2015.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: &quot;trebuchet ms&quot; , sans-serif;">Are you in Ibadan? Stop by and show Femi some love.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-24167757075128306422014-06-21T07:27:00.001-07:002014-06-21T07:44:15.681-07:00JUNE POEM: This Is How To Collect Wind<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Set fire on your fingers</span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Piss<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: inherit;">On the rules<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: inherit;">They set<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Flirt with his shadow<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br /></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Stay back<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Fuck it—<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Blow <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Him<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Blow Him Away<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br /></div><br /><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Be a woman.</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">(c) Jumoke Verissimo</span></div></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-25134141770379695042014-05-22T15:21:00.000-07:002014-06-24T02:50:05.950-07:00MAY POEM: Transience <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><b><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">Transience <o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br /></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">The moon of many years has not aged <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">Like it was in Oluyole so it is in Ebedi <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">Covers of clouds sleep around like exiles<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">To become the dreams of fingers whipping<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">Hopes on keys, opening doors to desires<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">Which make windows entrances and exits.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br /></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">When morning arranges itself at dawn<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">The dew is a curtain of questions<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">But once it parts itself to unveil hills<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">Blanketed by browning leaves<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">Assuring tomorrow is re-signed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br /></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">Each dream, returns naked once fulfilled<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">And again patterns figured as advances<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">Become the meaning of restless nights<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">And mornings that forget evenings.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br /></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">Singing birds are a cliché of bushes<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">So what is it with the game of hope,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">I see in the traveller’s eyes:<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">Finding solitude in a hideaway?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br /></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">January is the metaphor of firsts<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">Its entrée of prediction is a varnish <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">Harbouring small sobs and silences<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br /></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">Like evening is the middleman <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">Between the morning and night<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">With one dream birthed in full course<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">As day reinvents itself with strayer dew.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><br /></div><br /><div class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Narkisim;">*This poem was written during my stay as an artist-in-resident at the Ebedi International Writer’s Residency, where I worked on a collection of interconnected short stories.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">(</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">c) Jumoke Verissimo</span></div></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-5788034552014681482014-05-15T04:19:00.001-07:002014-05-15T04:19:08.004-07:00An interview on Brittle Paper<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">"Jumoke Verissimo is the second of the three most recent residents we’re interviewing. The Lagos-born poet lives and writes in Ibadan. Her poetry collection, I Am Memory, is one of the definitive texts of contemporary Nigerian poetry. In this interview, she tells us about her stay at Ebedi, gives us her take on poetry in Nigeria, and dishes on her two stray cats. Enjoy!"<br /><a href="http://brittlepaper.com/2014/05/ebedi-interview-jumoke-verissimo/"><br /></a>Read on here:&nbsp;<a href="http://brittlepaper.com/2014/05/ebedi-interview-jumoke-verissimo/">Brittlepaper</a></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4752018090814755662.post-82650840430315845692014-05-14T02:51:00.002-07:002014-05-25T14:42:07.600-07:00Call for Submission: Prairie Schooner Literary Journal<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">"The Prairie Schooner literary journal is excited to announce that our Winter 2014 issue will feature a poetry portfolio centered on the theme of Women and the Global Imagination, guest-edited by Alicia Ostriker. If you have work that you would like considered for this issue, send up to five pages of unpublished poems and/or prose poetry, along with your contact information and a 3-line bio, to schooner.special.subs@gmail.com.<br /><br />What would fit? Anything with an international dimension, or that engages in some way with the world we live in. We look forward to reading what you come up with!<br /><br />The submission period ends May 15th."<br /><br /></div>Olajumoke Verissimohttps://plus.google.com/113484243819399746090noreply@blogger.com0